Tom Hammerschmidt had rushed down to the police station as soon as he heard the news that the president's chief of staff and the First Lady's strategist were arrested.

After a heated and emotional reunion between Gavin and Lisa, the two had put aside their anger and hurt to focus on more important things.

But then everything came to a halt when Sean Jeffries had burst into the office to tell Hammerschmidt that he had just broken the story about Leann Harvey.

"How did you find this out?" Hammerschmidt could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"I received an anonymous tip," Sean replied with a grin. "I think you should turn on the news. This is about to blow up."

The 'Breaking News' headline had just appeared on the TV screen when Hammerschmidt flipped it on. But to everyone's surprise, not only had Leann been arrested. Doug Stamper was also being led out of the White House in handcuffs.

Lisa and Gavin immediately felt their hearts flutter at the thought that Doug had finally been caught.

However, Hammerschmidt remained skeptical, knowing this was too good to be true. There had to be more to this.

He adjourned their meeting, telling them they would resume tomorrow. He had to interview Doug; he needed to know the truth.

He didn't have to wait long for Doug, already clad in a jumpsuit, to arrive at the visitation window.

"Mr. Stamper," Hammerschmidt acknowledged.

"Why are you here?" Doug asked bluntly, having no time to beat around the bush.

"I want to know why you confessed to the murder of Zoe Barnes."

"Because I killed her."

"Really? You're not just covering for the president?"

"No," Doug didn't even blink when he said that.

"Tell the truth for once, Mr. Stamper," Hammerschmidt leaned as close as he could to the glass pane. "Allegations have been made against you for another murder. Rachel Posner. Did you know that?"

Immediately, Doug tensed up at the name. He gave no response, but his silence was still enough of an answer for the journalist.

"If you think this is some sort of heroic sacrifice, you're fooling yourself. Underwood is still going to be investigated once Conway is in office. He's still going to be punished whether you try to take the fall for his crimes. Don't think for a second you're significant, Mr. Stamper. The Underwoods' can't save you now."

Doug's face contorted in anger at Hammerschmidt's words. He looked about ready to jump through the window and strangle the man; that's how aggravated he was.

Hammerschmidt believed that he had finally gotten to Doug; he would finally get him to talk.

But then he said something that made Hammerschmidt pause.

"I killed Zoe because the First Lady ordered me to."

"What?"

However, Hammerschmidt never got his answer as Doug slammed the phone and told the guard he was finished.

Hammerschmidt wasn't finished yet. He had just enough time to interview Leann Harvey before visitations hours were closed.

"I've been advised not to talk to anyone by my lawyer." Leann looked at the journalist unimpressed.

"Then why are you here talking to me?"

"Maybe because I'm interested in what you have to say."

"I can't believe you would allow yourself to go to jail for the Underwoods'."

"I'm not going to jail for anyone, but myself."

"You and Doug really believe you're martyrs. Whatever you're hiding, won't be brushed aside. Not anymore."

Leann grimaced, not saying anything else for a few seconds. "I thought you were actually here to thank me for making your investigation relevant again." She abruptly changed the subject.

"What are you talking about?"

"That information you received anonymously. It was from me. On behalf of the First Lady."

"You were the leak?" Hammerschmidt figured it had to be someone from within the White House, but he would have never guessed it would be Leann Harvey.

She nodded her head smugly.

"Why would you leak information that would lead to your own arrest?"

"I didn't leak that!" She banged her clenched fist on the table, startling Hammerschmidt.

"But you admitted to the police it was true," Hammerschmidt was confused, trying to make sense of what was true and what was fabricated.

"What was the point in denying it anymore?" Leann sighed wearily. "Aidan already put the nail in my coffin once he leaked out the NSA files. I was seen multiple times with him. We were known to be friends."

"So let me get this straight: you leaked the information about the staged terrorist threat and Zoe Barnes's death? Not this latest leak? But either way, once you contacted me about the staged terrorist threat you should have known you could be arrested."

"There was always a chance that it would blow up in my face." She cast her eyes downwards in regret. "But there comes a point when you just need to throw in the towel and recover whatever dignity you have left."

"One more minute!" A guard shouted.

"There's something more, isn't there? Why you actually confessed?" Working as a journalist for decades gave Hammerschmidt the ability to read people. He could tell Leann was scared of something.

"The Underwoods'... they're at war with each other. I know better than to be caught in the middle of something like that. Their empire is crumbling right before them and they will do anything to salvage it. I am loyal to the First Lady, but I won't fool myself to believe she wouldn't throw me under the bus if it meant saving herself. Anything's safer than being in the White House; there I'm just a liability."

"...These leaks then... they were all aimed at the president then? To make sure he wouldn't be president again." Hammerschmidt had finally put most of the pieces together. "Is his defeat worth your freedom? Are you willing to let the First Lady off scot-free?"

"I don't even know if any of that will happen at this point." Leann suddenly grew irritated. "I should have never gotten involved with them!"

"Time's up!" The guard went over to Leann, but Hammerschmidt shouted one last thing to her.

"Wait! Doug said he killed Zoe because the First Lady asked him to!"

"I don't know anything about that, but I doubt it. Doug was probably the one who sold me out. He's just that much of a lapdog." Leann was escorted out of the area, leaving behind a curious Hammerschmidt.

"These past few days leading up to the Inauguration have spawned several mass shootings across the country," News anchor Megyn Kelly reported.

"ICO has claimed responsibility for these attacks that occurred in California, Florida, New York, and Washington.

"There have been calls to delay the Inauguration as threats of an attack have been made. But after a drawn-out election, the public is pushing back against this idea," She continued, now talking to her panelists.

From his hotel, Conway watched the news play out in front of him in horror.

The disheartening feeling was reminiscent of Election Night when Frank almost stole his presidency.

He would not let this happen again. He refused to. He had worked too hard for Frank just to interfere and take something that was rightfully his.

He knew that Frank would do everything in his power to disrupt and postpone his Inauguration; he was that desperate.

But Conway was just as desperate; just as cunning, which Frank had underestimated.

Conway was not even surprised when he received the call from the president that the Inauguration would be postponed for safety concerns.

"Cut the bullshit, Frank! We both know you don't give a rat's ass about my safety! Just get over the fact that you lost. You're not wanted anymore! You're irrelevant," Conway seethed.

Frank laughed on the other end at Conway's rant. "You really do sound like a spoiled brat right now."

"Because that presidency is mine! And you know it is!" Conway was a hairbreadth away from completely snapping.

"I'm doing you a favor, Will. The country is a mess right now. I don't even think someone as cocky as the king of spades is ready for that type of responsibility based on how you're acting."

"Listen to me, Frank," Conway's voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't have the time or morals to spare. You will not prevent me from being president. Your days are numbered. You lost your chief of staff. You lost all your pieces; you're all alone now."

"No, you listen to me, Will! I don't give a damn who the hell you think you are or strive to be! You will not talk-" Frank's anger erupted at Conway's plain disrespect.

"Honestly, shut up for once, Frank." Conway ended the phone call, tired of Frank's shit.

However, there was still the fact the Inauguration had been delayed for an unknown period. The clock was ticking and Conway had to get ahold of what little time was left. He had to be steps ahead of Frank, which seemed hopeless in itself.

"There have also been several riots in major cities because of the surge in militarized police. People are concerned America is mirroring a police state with all the information that has surfaced. The militarized police certainly don't help this notion that is spreading throughout social media," Megyn Kelly told her panelists. "People are upset, they're tired, they want change, and they want it now. Tensions are running high and it is bringing up a lot of discourse and violence within the nation."

"It really is resembling what people would call a civil war or even a revolution," one panelist pitched in.

Conway frowned, wondering about what angle he had over Frank. Then, the realization dawned upon him.

Amongst the chaos, he had unity. He had people who were aligned against Frank Underwood.

The end was coming.

Against his attorney's advice, Doug Stamper had used most of his savings to post bail.

He was useless in jail and therefore, couldn't remain there. He had to know what Frank was planning; what he had to do to aid him.

But without access to the president, he had to guess on his own what Frank would expect from him.

Even though Frank hadn't spoken to him since the night of his arrest, he felt that the news were secret messages from the president to him. Frank's actions and decisions seemed erratic, but Doug understood them to be Frank's way of telling him to act.

Doug had been used to working in the shadows, but now he had to be completely obscured.

If he was caught now, it was truly over. Everything he had worked most of his adult life for would vanish in an instant.

So as he bought the gun, the thought of Frank waiting for him in the White House consumed his mind.

Desperation was an infectious disease, plaguing the country. No one was immune to it, even Doug Stamper.

It was spreading rapidly from person to person, from president to president-elect, from congressman to civilian.

Desperation convinced Doug that he had to act before the Inauguration would resume. It told him this would be the last chance to stop the house of cards from falling.

It was strange really. Its voice sounded very much like Frank's, telling him he would be the one to kill Conway.

"Today was supposed to be the Inauguration Ceremony. Right now, Conway should have been swearing oath as the new president.

Life is filled with should haves, could haves, and would haves. Just like I should still remain president.

Like the news should be covering my crimes, but are too focused on the 'war on terror.'

Even The Herald has moved onto other things. Thank goodness.

However, these protestors have returned. There's more of them and they just keep growing.

They should be at their low-wage jobs and college classes that will eventually earn them a worthless degree.

I bet Conway is just freaking out about now. Screaming how he should be president and how he deserves it.

Don't look at me like that, you should know I'm not the type to give up easily. Or at all.

You saw what I had to do to get here.

I'm an immovable object who refuses to leave!" Frank roared from his desk.

"Francis, stop shouting. Everyone will hear you," Claire walked in suddenly.

"What? I can't even talk in my own house!" Francis shouted back.

"It won't be your house much longer."

"Damn it, Claire!" Francis rose up from his seat. "And I don't see you doing anything about it! Am I the only one who takes initiative?!"

Claire moved over to the window, biting her tongue from Frank's insults. "Conway is here already. He's down below, trying to calm the crowd."

"He has no business here."

"Then how do you propose we get rid of him?"

"I don't know. If it comes to it, I might just push him down some stairs and make it look like an accident."

Claire turned her head to stare down her husband and burst out laughing at the stupidity.

This caught Francis by surprise, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing either.

It was precisely at that moment the gunfire started.

"Please, everyone settle down!" Conway stood behind the White House fence, trying to stop the crowd from chanting, 'Down with Underwood!'

"There will be an Inauguration! I promise it will happen!" Conway continued to yell over the scattered responses.

"You should be president!"

"Down with Underwood!"

"Screw Frank!"

"Wait! Stop!" Conway saw a protestor attempting to climb over the fence. He ran over to them as they had reached the top, but were immediately shot down.

Conway felt the blood land on him before he saw it spurt out.

People screamed in horror as the body fell back down to their side, landing onto the pavement with a thud.

"Sir! Go back inside!" A Secret Service ordered to a frozen Conway.

The scene grew even more hysterical as the crowd was seemingly driven into a frenzy. More people began to climb over and more gunfire was heard, causing Conway to rush towards safety.

The end was here.

Secret Service tried to keep the situation under control, but the crowd was massive. Hundreds upon hundreds of people were climbing the fence like some zombie apocalyptic vision.

People were shot, people were killed, but the crowd was not deterred. They had one goal in mind and that was to get Francis Underwood.

Doug was able to easily sneak in with them, using several people as shields. He would have shot Conway earlier, but there were too many heads in the way and no escape route back.

Then this opportunity happened.

Doug suddenly heard the sound of a helicopter from above. He briefly looked up, seeing the helicopter circling the White House.

He shook his head, ignoring the distraction and pushing onwards into the White House.

Inside the news helicopter, was Hammerschmidt, surveying the calamity below. He was sent to write about the protestors and how the American public wanted to rid themselves of Frank, but then disaster struck.

The noise of the helicopter only added to the anarchy.

"I can't believe this..." He muttered, unable to take his eyes off the crowd.

"What is this..." Jackie watched from the steps of the Capitol. All around her, the congressmen and women paused to watch the mob march across the National Mall.

She wanted to run inside, but the sight rendered her completely immobile. Even then, she wouldn't be safe as all protection was aimed at the White House currently.

From his apartment, Remy was left stunned as he watched the screen flash to the chaos happening just a few miles away.

He looked outside and saw a helicopter circling around something.

"Holy shit."

It had to be there where Armageddon was occurring.

The people had overpowered Secret Service, storming the interior with their sheer numbers. They kicked down every door, fervently hunting for their president.

The Underwoods' didn't have enough time to reach a secure point as everything had happened so quickly. So in the nearest hiding space that happened to be his favorite secret room within the Oval, stood Frank and Claire.

They dared not to speak, much less move out of concern they would be heard.

Frank stood pressed against the door, listening for any sounds. Claire was at the other door, holding tightly onto the handle.

They exchanged worried glances, something they had never done before. Frank's face had grown pale as Claire was taking in shallow breaths.

In the corner of the stairwell, lied her scattered heels.

"I hear someone," Frank whispered gravely. "They're trying to get into the Oval."

Claire hesitantly took her hand off the door handle and walked up the flight of stairs towards her husband.

"What do we do? We're not safe here..." Claire kept glancing down at the other door.

"We're not safe anywhere. Our best bet is to wait for the military to mow them down."

"What if they don't come?"

"They'll come!" Frank's voice rose slightly. This made Claire shut her mouth and look away.

Frank heard more noises from the opposite side as if more people were trying to get in.

"Just be quiet, Claire. We'll survive this."

"...They're after you."

"What?" Frank finally turned his head from the door.

"It's you they want," Claire's blank stare met Frank's confused one. She brought her hands to his face and rubbed his eyes, bringing back instant memories of the violent dream he once dreamt. The dream where they both fought each other to the death.

"You know I love you, Francis."

"Claire, what are you saying? We'll be fine, we're not going to die."

"...Even after everything, I still love you."

"Claire?"

"Do you love me, Francis?"

"Claire... of course I love you. You're the only woman I've ever loved."

"But not the only person?"

"I really don't understand this..." Francis hadn't noticed her hands had made their way to the door.

"Of course, you wouldn't. You never have." She brought her face closer to his. "That's what stopped you from being a great president."

"Goodbye... Francis.." She whispered softly as she opened the door, shoving her husband out forcefully.

"Claire!" Frank cried out, but the door had already been shut back in place.

He snarled angrily, about to open it once more. But at that moment, the door to the Oval was smashed in.

Frank had barely turned around to see the mob before he was grabbed back by dozens of arms.

The crowd pushed their way back out to the front of the White House with the president in hand.

The journey to the outside was a brutal one. Frank was beaten, kicked, hit, spit on, and cursed at by the people as he was passed by them.

The once adoring faces were taunting ones. The praise he had once heard were now insults.

Frank struggled desperately, trying to break away from their grip.

It was futile.

By the time he reached the front of the White House, he was bruised and dripping with blood. He couldn't even stand on his own. But that didn't matter since he was forced down on his knees.

This pain, this suffering, it was unbearable. However, Frank wouldn't give his captors the satisfaction in seeing him scream and beg.

If he died, he would die with his pride intact.

The situation around him seemed almost surreal. Like something from one of his nightmares. He actually wanted to laugh because there was something familiar about these people.

Even though they were masked, he felt like he knew them.

To the left, were a mother and daughter he had met once. He couldn't remember where and for what.

To the right, was a woman he had just seen get arrested. What was her name?

In front of him, was a man who once cooked ribs for him. He recognized him from his voice.

"You too, Freddie?" Frank chuckled, coughing up blood in the process.

"Shut the hell up, Frank. You're in no position to talk."

"And here I am, talking," Frank spit blood at the man.

Instantly, Freddie put a gun to Frank's temple. "I said, shut up!"

"How... pathetic..." Frank said in between coughs. "After all this, you'll still be nothing. Just scum. I'll have a... legacy. I'll... be.. remembered..."

Freddie was about to pull the trigger when someone stopped him. A man.

He had never met this man. He never knew him.

But Mr. Barnes knew.

Hammerschmidt was practically falling out of the helicopter, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening.

When he saw the gun be tucked away and the hunting knife took out instead, he gasped audibly.

The cold metal of the barrel at Frank's head was replaced with a coldness at his throat. He wasn't sure which one felt worse, which one felt more final.

"You.. all... can go... " Frank gurgled out through the frothing blood. But Freddie's hand sliced back before Frank could finish.

The nearby white columns were stained red from the spatter.

Frank fell onto his back, gazing upwards as his body grew limp and life drained out from his neck.

He wanted to say something more, but no words would come out. Not even a dying sound.

In a few seconds, not even a thought was left.

Doug was deep inside the White House when Frank was dragged outside. But he heard the commotion, to know something was happening.

He hurried to the crowd, but was constantly pushed towards the end.

That was what delayed him from reaching Frank.

When he was finally within view, Doug could do nothing but watch powerlessly. There were too many people and it all happened in a blink of an eye. He couldn't have shot all of them to get to his president.

His heart cracked as he saw his savior fall to the ground, witnessing the brutality from a few feet away.

He was too late.

He had failed.

As everyone cheered, Doug marched to the front and dropped beside Frank, weeping bitterly. Frank's body was still bleeding out, smearing Doug's skin and clothes with it.

He remained for a few minutes at the gory scene, cursing fate; cursing humanity.

Cursing democracy.

Slowly, Doug picked himself off the ground as he realized the only way to avenge Frank Underwood.

It was as if Frank's spirit was urging him to kill the man who caused all of this.

Doug took out his gun, carrying it at his side as he walked back into the White House.

He went to the one place he figured someone like Conway would be; The Oval Office.

Doug caught a glimpse of a running Conway going there.

He had to hurry; he could practically hear the military coming.

Conway had just stepped foot into the room when Doug sneaked in from behind him.

"Frank's dead," Doug stated numbly.

Conway turned on his heel to see the gun pointed on him.

"Doug... wait..." Conway raised his hands up, unnerved by the man's composure.

"I should have done this from the beginning. I should have protected him," Doug took a few steps closer, but not so close that Conway could disarm him.

"This won't change anything."

Doug narrowed his eyes, aiming the gun at Conway's chest. Conway prepared himself to lunge at the man when out of the corner of Doug's eye something moved.

The hidden door opened gradually, revealing a startled Claire.

"Doug..." Claire smiled.

Conway glanced at her, seeing her smile. But this wasn't a smile of warmness, it was a smile that hid a sinister meaning.

Her mouth was curved upwards out of confidence.

Out of relief.

Doug gritted his teeth, keeping the gun trained on Conway. Then, he saw Claire's smirk.

And fired the gun into her.

The bullet tore into her heart instantly, causing her to make strangled cry.

Claire looked down at her chest, placing her hand over the wound. She raised her hand to her face, seeing the red substance painting her fingers.

Her eyes widened as Doug fired another shot into her brain, killing her.

Conway watched as the blood pooled around her body and onto the rug it landed on, raising his head slowly back at Doug.

But he was already gone.

Conway stumbled out of the White House to greet the military.

Bodies littered the area; blood was everywhere.

It had been a massacre.

When he passed by Frank's body, he could only gaze down at it pathetically.

What a miserable way to die.

But Conway had to focus on other things at the moment. He had to get back to his family.

He had to start getting this mess cleaned up.

This graveyard would soon be his home.